


Swimming in Dark Water

by ImNotAttractedToPans



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcoholism, Angst, Anxiety, Drugs, Fluff, Gritty, Insomnia, Lots of Angst, M/M, PTSD, a bit of a character study, although i think this is her OTP, but not really, i tried fluff and this is what happened, my editor hates me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 06:39:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15137315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImNotAttractedToPans/pseuds/ImNotAttractedToPans
Summary: Tony has insmonia.Sometimes that's a good thing.





	Swimming in Dark Water

**Author's Note:**

> For my lovely editor who's scared of spiders.

Insomnia

 

Tony had grown up with insomnia. An incessant buzzing in his head that felt like spiders crawling over his scalp and through his hair, millions of legs dragging their furry feet further and further down his neck.

 

When he was younger, Jarvis - the original Jarvis; the real Jarvis - would make him warm milk and sit by his bedside, telling fantastical stories about things that could only exist in one's imagination. As he got older, his father continued to push the genius that was his son's intellect, he learned how to build circuit boards with his eyes closed, seeing blueprints on the inside of his eyelids.

 

Long nights that were one filled with tales of woe were quickly replaced with coloured wires and blinking lights.

 

When his parents died, he didn’t sleep for months. Drowning his grief with as much alcohol his body could handle. And then  some.

 

After his parent’s death he didn’t sleep until he ended up in the hospital, and even that was largely drug induced. He woke up to Jarvis slouched in an uncomfortable plastic hospital chair by his bedside, eyes closed and drool dripping out of his open mouth.

 

Days later he would find out that his liver almost gave out due to alcohol poisoning. He didn’t touch the scotch for a few weeks after that revelation.

 

Jarvis’ passing was far worse than Tony could ever imagine. It felt as if someone had slowly dug a knife into him and started twisting, digging deeper with every rotation. The spiral that had started with his parents had gained rapid speed with the latest of his personal tragedies, with every shift downwards he was pushed further into the glitz and glamour that the fame he had inherited from his parents allowed him entry to. Quickly replacing alcohol with sex and sex with drugs.

 

He spent his restless nights in his twenties in and out of rehab. Midnight talks with shrinks that had vowed their lives to always be available to those who needed them.

 

The only positive to his insomnia was the amount of work that he could get done in the middle of the night. Building up calluses from shifting machinery and gaining burn scars from soldering sessions gone wrong. He would work until he passed out. Forgetting the world around him until his ribs started to become visible beneath his skin.

 

He wasn’t allowed to sleep in Afghanistan. Some form of torture to make him more pliable. Sleep deprivation was apparently the fastest way to make people forget their morals.

 

When he got back home all of his time became dedicated to improving on The Ironman Suit (capitals necessary).

 

It took time and shrinks for him to finally accept that sleep was an option again. That he could lie down in his bed, close his eyes, and wouldn't be woken up by a sack over his head and water being sprayed into his mouth. That he was allowed to snore without water filling his nose.

 

And then Captain America was thawed from the ice. The person his father called a hero. His personal idol growing up. And once again sleep took a back burner.

 

They fought and they yelled. Tony harboured an unreasonable resentment for the man his father loved more than his own son. The man that could do no wrong. And it didn’t help that all the stories he was told about how honourable and courageous the man in red white and blue were all true.

 

It also didn’t help how fucking good he looked for a 90-year-old.

 

When he went into the rift, he felt the tingle that came with years of insomnia expand from his scalp to his neck, shoulders, torso.

 

All he felt was the uncomfortable sensation of invisible pins repeatedly stabbing him.

 

He watched helplessly as every single light in his suit fizzled out. He could feel the darkness inside the red and gold nitinol. He could feel it crawl into his mouth, down his throat and into his lungs.

 

He woke up in the hospital.

 

He stopped drinking for a while after that. He started seeing his shrink again. Being diagnosed with PTSD and anxiety disorder.

 

Three months after what he was calling The Incident, Steve and him had started dating. Five months after, they started sleeping in the same bed together.

 

The first time was after a round of something that to this day still made Steve blush. They were in Tony’s bed, both closing their eyes, they didn’t wake up until morning.

 

Tony’s insomnia still bothered him.

Some nights he couldn’t escape the sensation of cold water trailing down his neck. The thickness of the air that would never hold a candle to what it felt like in that cave. The weight of the reactor slowly compressing his chest.

 

On nights like these, he would sit in his workshop. The soundproof walls blocking out the sound of “Shook me all night long” at full volume.

 

He would feel small pricks of heat penetrate his gloves. His eyes would turn red and his tongue would become heavy with layers of coffee.

 

He would be too caught up in his work to hear Steve enter. He wouldn’t notice the love-struck look that overtook baby blues as they watched him burn a tiny hole into his work pants because he couldn’t be bothered to change into heatproof ones. He wouldn’t notice Steve come over to him until his hands, delicate yet rough at the same time - would take his shoulders and steer him by the hand over to a sink to run the burn under cold water.

 

He would notice when the Captain dragged him back to bed with soft kisses and promises of a full homemade breakfast in the morning. He would notice when arms with muscles the size of bowling balls would wrap around his middle as the two of them fell into bed. He would notice how the blond would nuzzle his scalp right where the buzzing began.

 

Tony had insomnia his entire life. He knew that he would never be rid of it, but with Steve by his side? He felt like he could deal with it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you leave a Comment and a Kudos you are making my day. Also I'm low key taking submissions so if you have any ideas feel free to leave them below.


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